A watched pot never boils ...
but this one's about to blow. And I'm "ready." Or as ready as one can be for a new little one.
I recently read a novel set in France in the 1600's where the author described childbirth as "the reaper."
We live in a day in age where, compared to all space and time, women have relatively few children. We also live in a day when health care -- or at least health care to deliver a baby -- is pretty accessible -- childbirth is referred to as many things nowadays, but never as "the reaper."
Which leads me to my point: It's so easy to focus on what I give up for my kids -- sleep, "me time," that fantasy fulfilling career (I'm not sure what it would be anyways ...) , going to the bathroom alone, etc., etc ... I had never considered that in most space and time, a pregnancy could literally mean giving up one's life for a new little baby.
What sacrifice. I imagine a woman in my very pregnant state in France in the 1600's -- or anywhere in the 1600's -- would be spending these days with her 3 1/2 and 20 month old hoping they're not her last with them -- worried about who will care for them when she's gone -- hoping & praying they'd be loved.
Just a thought spurred by a novel & a really goofy self photo to let you all know that I am eagerly expecting my new little baby any second. So keep us in your prayers and check back soon for an update -- I refuse to post another unless it includes a photo of a 6 - 7 pound screamer.